ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʀᴋ ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ - House of the Dragon

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

                      Aemond Targaryen

Though the night was my favourite part of the day, sleeping was not.

My mind always flew to the night I lost my eye, the memory of Lucerys' hand sliding the knife through the flesh and the incesable pain that came during the next weeks constantly haunted my dreams.

That night was not the exception.

I woke up suddenly, sitting straight in the huge bed and breathing swiftly. A thin layer of sweat soaked my nightsuit and the blue saphire felt heavy when my fingers rubbed the skin around it. I couldn't find the strenght to take it out since my halfsister and her family arrived at the capital, almost as if I expected one of them to sneak in my chambers and stared at the jewel shining under the poor light of the fireplace. Perhaps I did expect someone to sneak into my bedchambers, and the very thought of her being able to see what was under the eyepatch sent shivers down my spine every time I thought of it.

Would she be afraid? Would she avoid looking at me as my own mother did the first moons that the wound was so recent that it prevented it from being covered? Would she gag, throw up, laugh perhaps? Though I was not willing to find out, I knew she would most likely complete ignore it, as if she had seen under the eyepatch many times before. Odd woman, my niece.

I sighed standing up, and the cold ground and the wild wind coming in through the balcony awoke me in a matter of seconds, moving my silver hair and making the hair of my arms stand on end.

The waxing giobbus moon was nowhere to be found, the dark clouds hiding it as the violent rain hit the ground and roofs of King's Landing. The brutal wind caused the branches of the trees to collide with each other and the strong waves of the Narrow Sea struck against the sand in a threatening whisper.

I could not go back to sleep, and due to the storm I could not go flying on Vhagar either.

My eye wandered around the room, feeling the fire's warm on the fireplace and seeing as the red, orange and yellow flames made the shadows grow until the end of the wall in a ghostly way.

Black hair with two silver locks flashed through my mind as I grabbed the old pencil almost lost among white papers.

The couch creaked under my weight, taking off the white shirt I wore to bed and digging my elbows into the skin of my thighs as I leaned forward, pencil and paper in hand.

In those nights were nightmares drowned my sleep, I found comfort in drawing the first thing I could settle my eye on. Mostly I would end up tracing the morning sky, with the sun bringing light to everyone's windows and the lost little birds of the morn. There were nights I would draw Vhagar, with her enormous shadow and her shiny eyes.

When I lost half my sight, I also lost hope for drawing ever again.

Maesters said it would make my life extremely complicated, and that I would be blessed if I ever read again, along with writing or even wielding a sword. Thus, every time someone would look at me with pity and compassion, I added another reason. And I tried and tried and tried a bit more, until my functional eye read and wrote again. And I trained day and night until the sword felt like an extension of my arm.

It took me some time, having to mainly focus with half my sight, but once I had the control, I felt unstoppable. Vhagar made me unstoppable.

I drew her the first time I had a pencil in my hand after that night.

It was the same drawing I gave her, with Stormbreaker hugging her in the gardens, but it was me hugging her, and her dragon and my own were flying above us.